The Seven Pieces of a Feuilleton

Chapter 18

He had expected to spend the afternoon crafting a plan to persuade his boss of additional paid time off. He had started to become more concerned that his flight would leave before Stuart disembarked and wanted to ensure he could maintain a close eye on the situation.

He had every confidence in Dylan's and Finn's abilities to keep safe the woman who served as the most important person in all three of their lives, but Brandon decided he would feel much better if he could remain in close proximity to Brenda himself.

The problem, he discovered, was finding a Portland hook in the LA news if he would have any hope of convincing his editor to let him stay longer.

He did not plan for Andrea to request that he bring Hannah to a birthday party of what must have been at least twenty girls in their early double digits, most of whom wore denim skirts over footless leggings, ruffled skirts over jeans, or colorful shrugs. Almost all of them were clamoring for the attention of some blond teenager in the corner, Jesse something-or-other, as he leapt up onto the stage and began to sing about girls dancing in videos.

"You like this guy?" he asked, sitting backwards on a park bench.

"Who, JMac? He's alright," Hannah shrugged, glancing at her bag. He knew his goddaughter was thinking of the book that lay within, but reading at a birthday party was a significant social faux pas. "I was more into him last year, before all the other girls in sixth grade decided they wanted to marry him. Just saying; I saw him first, in Summerland and in the soap Bubbeh always has playing that Mom doesn't know I watch sometimes. But it isn't my birthday party, Uncle Brandon. I don't exactly get to select the music."

He chuckled, ruffling her hair.

"Not here," she groaned, glancing around. "Hey, isn't that - Silver, over here!"

"Silver?" asked Brandon, his eyebrow raising as he watched the young teenager hurry towards them; a teenager who appeared nearly identical to one he had known during his own teenage days that sent him hurtling back to the halls of West Beverly. "Wait, as in, David Silver? She looks exactly like -"

"Erin! Mom told you to stay with me!"

He felt a paperweight take control of his kidneys, sliding down to his lower half.

"Kel, I'm thirteen; I don't need a babysitter. And I keep telling you, I go by Silver now."

"Can't you go by something else? That's what a lot of people call David and it's going to get confusing."

"They can just start calling him Detective Dumbo, like I do."

"We are not going to start calling him that, Erin."

"You're never around him anyways, so why does it matter what other people call him? Monkeybreath, Video Nerd, Sir Fartbrain. Any of these will do, KelBelle."

Kelly shook her head, her gaze landing on Brandon, who found it difficult to remove his from hers.

"Bran. Hey," she gave a small smile.

He noticed that the color of her eyeshadow and the color of her earrings perfectly matched the colors in her dress, which embraced the impending summer with their vibrancy. Her blond locks were curled, held together underneath a hair clip.

Frick, she looked good - seriously good.

Brandon quickly diverted his attention from her lips before she could notice.

He didn't think she'd noticed, anyhow.

"Kelly," he returned her smile with a warm, genuine one of his own that he had long since stopped bestowing upon her.